Two Weeks Later

I've just returned from another walk to the St. Matthäus churchyard. It was raining, but I had a raincoat with me (very sensible, is it not?). The street market was set up again near the Yorckstraße S-Bahn station, long rows of stalls mostly roofed with white sheets, offering vegetables, fruit, herbs, clothing, etc. It's quite crowded and noisy, with sellers calling their wares (I usually only make out the words "für ein Euro"), and trucks coming and going, and crates and boxes piled at the perimeters. The passage under the train tracks, which is being renovated, leads one through to a calmer world.

The churchyard is still splendidly green, thanks to the continuous rainy weather which has formed my ideal of a summer. It's probably mean toward people who actually have parties and do sports outside, but there's nothing "fun" about an abysmal water level and droughts, so the more it rains during this season the happier I am. But I'm worried that I'll jinx it now . . . (c: Anyway, the flowers that are blooming now include purple harebells, dark red begonias, blue lobelia, tall pink-flowered hostas, very tall weeds with small aster-like flowers, and yellow celandine (at least that's what I think it's called).

At first I read the first two tales out of the Grimms Märchen in the porch of the church-like building. I looked at the sculpture more closely, and it turns out that the figure which I thought was a student has wings (and most teachers would probably agree that one cannot be a student and angelic at the same time). Then I walked slowly up the central path and then around the edge of the graveyard nearest the train tracks. Sometimes I look at headstones to see if I'd like to use the names for a story, and mostly I wonder how the lives of the people were. At particular plots there are black signboards with information (gathered by schoolchildren) about who "here lies." I was interested to learn that Max Bruch apparently fell into disfavour and nearly into oblivion during Nazi times because of the Jewish nature of his piece "Kol Nidrei." There are two families who have old monuments along the walls, one "Langhans" (I think) and the other "Gill," which interest me because they have English inscriptions. And there is one "Cölestin de Zitzewitz" whose monument was put up by the court of Friedrich Wilhelm III (I think). These monuments are in the upper part of the graveyard, which is more sombre and stately. Near the bottom of the slope there is a nice large field with a colony of newer plots in the middle, whose brightly coloured flowers make it look like a cottage garden.

But it disturbs me when there are small plastic signs saying "Ruhezeit abgelaufen." First of all, it probably means that someone's remains will shortly be kicked out of the plot, and secondly it sounds as if the deceased's ghost will rise and start haunting the neighbourhood.

As for university, I made a trip each to the Humboldt Uni (Unter den Linden 6) and the Freie Uni (Institut für Englische Philologie, Gosslerstraße 2-4), but, though my understanding of the application processes have advanced, the applications themselves haven't. I'm preparing to hand in my academic records for processing on Monday, and I have to apply by next Sunday. Altogether I do wish I hadn't made such a mountain out of the molehill that is the application process. I also wish that I hadn't received quite so much advice. It feels like people are prodding me over and over again on the same spot, and a painful metaphorical bruise has developed. It's not advice that I lack, but precise knowledge. Of course it's nice to know that people are interested. But help that does not help is usually depressing -- and if the person who intends to help evidently believes that I'm rather incompetent, it's very depressing.